


walk this way

by abovetheruins



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Praise Kink, Ryan in Heels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 08:01:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16593962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abovetheruins/pseuds/abovetheruins
Summary: “Are you doing this for a video?” he asks as soon as Ryan picks up.There’s a pause. “No?”Shane narrows his eyes. “Are you doing thisbecauseof a video?”There’s a longer pause. “Maybe?”-Ryan has something to prove. Shane helps.





	walk this way

**Author's Note:**

> We've had a ton of incredible Shane in heels fics in this fandom but I thought Ryan deserved a turn too! ;) Huge thanks to devasenas and bodhirookes, whose excitement over this motivated me to finish it!
> 
> Oh, and here's some uh... [context](https://theawfuledges.tumblr.com/post/177048788470/ghoulboyboos-buzzfeedunsolvednetwork-a).

When Ryan sends him a link and a short message - _help me choose_ \- Shane doesn’t think much of it. He figures it’s another sneaker purchase that Ryan will ask his opinion on and ultimately ignore, because _you don’t know a thing about shoes, do ya, babe_?

So he clicks it, and then he stares, and then he brings his messages back up and types _Did you send me the right link?_

_yeah? what’s your verdict?_

Shane clicks on the link again and stares some more. Well, at least he was right about it being shoe-related.

Then a thought hits him and he calls Ryan.

“Are you doing this for a video?” he asks as soon as Ryan picks up.

There’s a pause. “No?”

Shane narrows his eyes. “Are you doing this _because_ of a video?”

There’s a longer pause. “Maybe?”

“Oh, _Ryan_.”

“No, fuck off, do you know how many people came up to me to gush about your little video?”

Shane feels his lips curl in a grin. “How many?”

“ _Too_ many. And they all had something to say about mine, most of them bad.”

Shane waits a beat.

“Okay, all of them bad,” Ryan continues, and Shane can practically _hear_ him pouting. “Do _you_ think I phoned it in? When I tried it?”

“I mean, you did basically treat it as joke.”

Ryan sighs. “I know, I know. That’s why I want a do-over. Not for a video, just for me. To prove that I can.”

“So you’re just gonna strap on some heels for the hell of it, huh? No cameras included?”

“That’s right, baby!” Shane can’t help but grin at his boyfriend’s enthusiasm, exasperated though he may be by Ryan’s stubborn refusal to be bad at _anything_. “I’m considering it a personal challenge. Now, are you gonna help me pick out a pair or what?”

* * *

Ryan wants a pair of five-inch heels that look more like tools of war than anything that he should be strapping to his feet, let alone trying to walk in, but Shane manages to talk him down to a conservative three inches instead.

“Baby steps,” he says, remembering how badly Ryan had wobbled in that video of his and not wanting this so-called personal challenge to land his boyfriend in the emergency room.

“I hate to say it,” Ryan says a few days later as he's slipping into his seat, reaching for the coffee Shane had already deposited on his desk, "but you were right.”

“Finally calling it quits on the Boogaras, are you?” Shane hums, grinning as Ryan rolls his eyes.

“You were right about the _heels_ , asshole,” he says, taking a sip of his coffee, and Shane’s grin melts into a soft smile as Ryan sinks into his chair, appeased.

“So they came in?”

Ryan nods. “Yesterday. You wanna come over and help me break ‘em in?”

Shane squints. “Is this a sex thing?”

Ryan nearly snorts coffee up his nose. “Seriously, dude? No, it’s not a fucking – it’s not a sex thing. I need you to walk me through the whole – “ He waves his hand. “- process. Literally.”

“You _have_ done this before, Ryan,” Shane reminds him, a single brow quirked.

The look Ryan sends him is _scathing_. Shane loves it. “I think it’s been established that my first attempt was a failure, but thanks for reminding me.”

_God, you’re adorable_. “Don’t get your jersey in a bunch, I’ll be there.”

Ryan grumbles, muttering something under his breath that’s probably about Shane and probably not very nice. He can’t hide his smile, though. He tries, masking it with another sip from his mug, but there’s no disguising those lips of his stretching into a grin, bright, like the sun peeking over the horizon.

_Gross_ , Shane thinks, disgusted by the saccharine turn of his own thoughts, but there’s no hiding his smile, either.

* * *

“Oooh, I _was_ right.” Shane runs his fingers over the sleek lines and curves of the heel, feeling inordinately pleased with himself. So pleased that he doesn’t even mind that his knees are gonna be fucked from kneeling on Ryan’s living room floor.

Not that he really has any reason to complain. Not with a view like this.

It should probably look ridiculous; _Ryan_ should look ridiculous, and, if Shane is being perfectly honest, he kind of does. He’s wearing a fucking tank top and basketball shorts, after all, foot cocked expectantly and peering down at Shane with his eyebrows raised.

“You gonna slip those on me anytime soon, big guy?” he asks, nudging Shane’s knee with his foot.

“Yeah, yeah.” Shane reaches for Ryan’s foot, slipping the heel on and beginning to wind the thin black ribbons around his ankle. “Just enjoyin’ the view.”

“Is this a sex thing?” Ryan asks, a hint of a wheeze in his voice. Shane scoffs and finishes tying off the ribbons into a small bow, snug against Ryan’s skin.

“Babe, you’re projecting,” he says, patting Ryan’s ankle and making a _gimme_ gesture for Ryan’s other foot.

“Projecting, my ass,” Ryan crows. “This is totally a thing for you, isn’t it?”

“I’m not the one strapping heels to my feet for the hell of it.”

“Personal challenge,” Ryan chirps, as if that’s an excuse.

“ _Personal challenge_ , he says,” Shane murmurs, tying off the second bow and leaning back, taking in the picture as a whole: Ryan in that ridiculous Lakers tank top and shorts, topped off with those heels, the black complimenting his olive skin in a remarkably pleasing way. “Huh.”

“What?” Ryan straightens out of his slouched position on the couch, glancing down at his heel-clad feet. “What is it? Why does your face look like that?”

“Look like what?” Shane asks, attempting to ease his face into its usual nonchalance. Judging by the slowly dawning look of glee on Ryan’s face, he isn’t successful.

“Ohhh, you _do_ like this, don’t you, Madej?” Ryan asks, leaning back and steepling his fingers over his stomach like some cartoon villain.

“No need to be so goddamn smug,” Shane mutters, rising carefully to his feet and wincing at the pins-and-needles sensation running through his legs. He holds out his hands and wiggles his fingers. “C’mon, up! Let’s see what we’re working with.”

He heaves Ryan to his feet, holding him steady when he wobbles, and then both of them sort of… pause. With the extra three inches of height Ryan barely has to glance up to meet Shane’s eyes, and Shane can see the exact moment that knowledge registers with Ryan – he sucks in a sharp breath and his hands, still gripping Shane’s, go tight.

“Are you – is this seriously turning you on right now?” Shane had been going for mocking, because if there was any moment that Ryan deserved a bit of teasing, this was it, but he can’t disguise the low rasp of his voice, can’t ignore the way heat pools in his belly as he surveys Ryan from head to toe. It’s not so much the height that’s doing it for him as it is the full package: Ryan’s strong hands clasped in his, his lips parted and that soft, wondering look on his face, those goddamn arms bared for the world to see in that ridiculous jersey, and of course, the heels. Something about the thin ribbons crisscrossing around his ankles makes Shane’s fingers prickle with the urge to touch.

Shit. Maybe this _is_ a sex thing.

“No need to be so goddamn smug,” Ryan returns, lips curling in a soft smirk.

Shane snorts, tugging on Ryan’s hands. “Shut up and walk, Bergara.”

* * *

“So?” Ryan twists on his heels, arms out and smile wide. “Do I pass or do I pass?”

“Well,” Shane drawls, drawing out the word just enough, just until he sees that annoyed little furrow in Ryan’s brow. “You’re definitely not a natural, nowhere near the level of skill as yours truly – “

“Keep the ego stroking to a minimum, would ya, big guy – ?“

“ _But_ \- “ Shane gives Ryan a slow head to toe assessment, squinting as if he’s searching for something. He lasts about as long as it takes to get to the heels and then he’s grinning, leaning back against the kitchen counter and lifting his beer bottle in salute. “You did well, Ry. Surprisingly well. Quite a step up from your last go at it. I’m proud of ya, baby.”

Ryan scoffs, but Shane can tell he’s pleased. Why, he’s practically preening, standing there with his hands poised on his hips, a light sheen of sweat in the hollow of his throat from circling around the living room and kitchen again and again until there wasn’t even a hint of a wobble to his stride, until each step was more confident than the last. Shane hadn't ever really doubted him, but seeing firsthand how serious Ryan was taking the whole thing, how determined he was to get it right, going so far as to listen attentively to all of Shane's instructions and then follow them without question was... well, it was _something_.

"Is it weird that I kind of don't want to take them off?" Ryan asks, grabbing his own beer from the coffee table and joining Shane in the kitchen. Shane watches him approach with the same warm flush of feeling in his chest that he's grown used to experiencing around Ryan, though now it's compounded by a somewhat confusing tangle of amusement and arousal. No one should be able to rock heels and a jersey and get away with it, and yet...

"Nah," Shane rasps, clearing his throat when Ryan shoots him a knowing look. "If you enjoy 'em you should wear 'em."

Ryan smirks, abandoning his bottle to cage Shane in against the counter. With the way Shane's slouching he has to look up to meet Ryan's eyes and _oh_ , that's new. "You sure you're not just saying that because _you_ like them on me?" Ryan asks, chest warm against Shane's, hips flush together.

Shane tilts his head. "You fishin' for compliments, Bergara?" he asks, abandoning his beer and curling his fingers in Ryan's waistband, the blunt edges of his nails skating over smooth, warm skin. "Want me to tell you how pretty you look?"

"You could do that," Ryan breathes, shifting his weight so that his hips roll softly against Shane’s, the line of his stiffening cock a brand of heat against Shane’s thigh. "Or you could take me to bed."

“Could always do both,” Shane counters, his voice sinking into a throaty rasp - his ‘bedroom voice,’ as Ryan had so playfully dubbed it once upon a time. “We both know how much you get off on it.” Being appreciated, admired, _adored_. Ryan might chafe a little under that sort of attention in public but he goes wild for it in bed, and Shane loves to take full advantage of that fact, keeping up a steady stream of whispered praise in Ryan’s ear whenever they’re tangled together, until Ryan is gasping and whining and cursing him in equal measure.

Ryan huffs against his mouth, half laugh and half moan. "You might have to carry me," he says, his lips catching on Shane’s, plush and warm, a tease. "My calves are killing me."

Shane laughs, the sound lost in the press of their lips as he draws Ryan in for a proper kiss, sinking into the heat of his mouth and the soft, slick curl of his tongue, warmth licking up his spine as Ryan surges beneath him. A swift yank is all it takes to pull his boyfriend into his arms, though Ryan does most of the work, legs winding around his waist and arms locking around his shoulders. Shane can feel the edges of the heels pressing into his ass and shivers, taking his first step toward Ryan’s bedroom and relying on little more than sense memory to get them there unscathed.

They fall to the bed in a tangle of limbs, pulling at each other’s clothes between increasingly eager kisses, lips soft and wet against each other’s, fingers grasping, stroking, catching on each newly bared inch of skin. They laugh as Shane falls on his back to wiggle out of his chinos and wheeze as Ryan’s silly basketball shorts get caught on his heel. They leave the shoes on in silent, mutual agreement, even as the rest of their clothes find a new home on the floor, and again Shane finds himself thinking that Ryan should look ridiculous, nude save for those heels, but he looks anything but. He’s _gorgeous_ , the bare length of him spread across the bed, eyes heavy-lidded and dark, thighs splayed around Shane’s naked hips. The sharp edges of the heels compliment the curves and sculpted angles of his body in a way that Shane hadn’t anticipated but suddenly can’t get enough of, and he’s struck speechless for a moment, drinking Ryan in with hungry eyes.

“Well, big guy?” Ryan asks, voice soft and smile even softer, the curl of his lips, red and wet from their kisses, doing absolutely terrible things to Shane’s heart. “What’s the hold up, hmm? You gonna tell me I’m pretty or what?”

Shane huffs a laugh, ducking down to catch Ryan’s smiling mouth in a deep, searching kiss. “You’re such a brat, Bergara,” he murmurs, more affectionate than disapproving because well, he _did_ promise.

And by the time he’s buried in slick heat, Ryan’s mouth pressed to his shoulder and those heels digging into his lower back, Shane’s made good on his word – a few of them, actually. _Good_ and _gorgeous_ and _Ryan_ , though by the end of the night he’s moaning only one: _mine_.

**Author's Note:**

> The [heels](http://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/1872/4935/products/a5c96e20-b8f3-4a36-9c45-af89a1389fa8_1200x1200.jpg?v=1533030021), for anyone curious.


End file.
